


Don't Say Goodbye

by DarkAngelBK201



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Coping, Gen, Heavy Angst, Post-Loss, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 09:24:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8138956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAngelBK201/pseuds/DarkAngelBK201
Summary: It was the little things that made them remember, that made them think about the somber silence that followed their absence.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was broken after watching Kokuhaku on Friday, sooooo I had to cope somehow. So I wrote about 8 children trying to cope. If I have to suffer, you get to suffer with me.

**Part 1: Taichi**

Smiling halfheartedly at his teammates, Taichi lifted his hand in a wave, shouldering his own bag of equipment. For a moment, he stood by his locker, staring into the shadowed space. There was supposed to be something here…right? Nothing but emptiness met his blank stare, mirroring the hollow space in his own heart. His hand tightened around the cold metal door, his teeth grinding together. Growling, he shoved the door shut, listening to the angry clang as it echoed around the room.

His footsteps scraped against the smooth concrete, worn by the traffic that had come into contact with it since its creation. A black and white object caught his eye as he stepped out from the locker room, his head tilting in the direction of the field. A single ball sat in the center of the trampled green grass, alone save for him. Shrugging, Taichi made his way towards the stray object, making a note to scold his team about leaving equipment on the field after practice.

A thought flickered through him as he bent down to collect the ball, a soft smile drawing across his somber expression. Straightening, he turned behind him, a name catching in his throat when he saw that he stood alone.

An empty field.

A promised game that would never be played.

Somehow the silence felt just as empty as his own heart.

–

**Part 2: Yamato**

Yamato, digging through his guitar case for his pick, stiffened upon feeling the cold touch of metal against his already cool fingers. Hand curling around the offending object, he dragged out of the case, watching the way the light reflects off of its surface. A harmonica, freshly polished, sat in his palm, a pair of shocked blue eyes staring back at him from within. Questions raced through his head, wondering just when this had ended up in his guitar case instead of in his school bag. The reason drifted through his thoughts slowly, encompassing his entire being with its realization. Though gradual, it knocked the breath out of him, his eyes burning uncomfortably.

Sitting heavily on the red couch in the small room, he continued to stare at the offending object, refusing to let his eyes stray up, to just look for the one he wanted to see. His eyes closing, he lifted the harmonica up to his lips, blowing into the instrument with a practiced ease. A soft, lonely tune painted the air with sound, shattering the silence even as the song grew heavy with pain. The same pain that Yamato tried desperately to hide.

A single tear slid down his cheek, a slight waver in the tone the only indication to its existence.

–

**Part 3: Sora**

Sora sat curled up next to the window, a steaming cup of tea nestled in her hands as she watched the rain fall. Water streaked down the window, her eyes following each trail as each drop slid down the glass. Thoughts faded into the background, her mind solely occupied by watching the water pour from the sky. Her discarded phone sat alone at her desk, powered off since she had walked in. Her blanket slipped from her shoulder, the cold air drawing goosebumps to her skin. Sighing softly, she reached down to grab at the cloth, freezing when the rough fibers of a basket meet her touch.

She must have left the snack basket from earlier.

Grabbing the basket, she pulled it up to her lap, tearing her eyes away from the window to look down into it. Brown eyes widening, all she could do was stare down into her lap. The basket, for the most part, contained nothing but wrappers, crumpled and torn. But, at the basket’s center, a single unopened snack sat, nestled in the other empty wrappers. A sticky note was tacked onto its surface, containing a messy message written by an unpracticed hand…or beak.

“Remember to take care of yourself too, Sora.”

Sora could only stare, the rain not only falling outdoors anymore.

–

**Part 4: Mimi**

A pile of clothes was slowly growing in the center of an otherwise spotless room, open suitcases sitting in front of the mess. Mimi sat at its center, sifting through the clothes slowly, moving almost mechanically as she hung up certain outfits and folded others. Brown eyes gazed blankly at her own work, the menial task enough to keep her occupied, to keep her thoughts occupied. Tear tracks stained her cheeks, her face pale and splotchy. But still she worked, swallowing thickly every few seconds.

Once the pile of clothes on hangers grew big enough, she stood with a heaved sigh and threaded her fingers through the hooks to bring the clothes up to her chest. Waddling over to her closet, she slid it open without a single thought, hanging up the outfits one by one until nothing remained in her hands. Her eyes trailed around the closet, pausing at the small pile nestled in the corner.

A worn pink hat perched upon an equally beaten brown bag. Mimi fell to her knees, trembling fingers dragging the items towards her. A breathy, nearly hysterical laugh escaped from between her lips, her fingers trailing over the familiar fabric of the hat. Tears spilled down her cheeks once more, her shoulders hunching over as the laughter builds into weak sobs.

On the window ledge, several green cactuses sat bathing in the single ray of sunshine to burst through the clouds, a flower blooming in the center plant.  

–

**Part 5: Joe**

A pen scratched as its owner dragged it across the paper surface, black ink smeared in its wake. Joe, sitting hunched over his desk, glanced between the notebook in front of him and the textbook sitting propped up against the wall for easy reading. Stress lines creased the skin between his eyebrows, a set of smeared glasses sitting on his nose. Reaching out, he turned the page, only to find the end of the chapter. Sighing softly, Joe leaned back in the chair, his back popping as it stretched. Joe paused in his movements, uneasy in the silence of the room.

His eyes glanced towards the empty bowl sitting at the edge of his desk, a pair of chopsticks sitting atop its rim. Staring at it, the echo of words long forgotten almost reach his ears, a pitched voice proudly proclaiming about the food they made for him. But the memory faded just as fast as it appeared, the flash of white across his eyes vanishing with it. Sucking in a slow breath, Joe managed to tear his eyes away from the bowl.

Plucking up his pen, he resumed his work, trying to ignore the subtle trembling of his hand and lump growing in his throat.

Maybe if he worked hard enough…he could forget.

–

**Part 6: Koushiro**

A red glow bathed Koushiro as he sat in his chair, his face gaunt and hollow as he stared. The letters of the screen blinked and flashed, mocking him with each flicker, blaming him with each flash. Dark bags were etched beneath his eyes, which reflected the light from his monitors. His hands laid in his lap, periodically curling into fists and rolling back out against the cloth of his pants.

_Reboot complete._

He wanted to scream. As it was, the pain built in his chest, the guilt a knife that dug deeper with each breath. It was all his fault. He didn’t move fast enough. He was too slow in figuring everything out. He failed…he failed… Sucking in a deep breath, his eyes squeezed shut as he hunched over, his hands moving to pull at the roots of his hair.

How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Where did he go wrong?

_“Learning is supposed to be fun, isn’t it?”_

Koushiro jerked upright, his eyes darting around at the words that whispered through his thoughts. The lights remained off in his office, the door still firmly shut. He was alone. His hands dropped away from his hair, his shoulders slumping. Slowly, he turned off each monitor, the screens blinking out one by one until nothing but darkness remained.

What could he do now?

Was there anything he could do now?

His questions went unanswered in the silence.

–

**Part 7: Hikari**

The washing machine open beside her, Hikari sorted through her laundry, searching through pockets and dumping each article of clothing into the waiting machine one by one. Her eyes were etched with a somber sadness, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she worked. Shaking out one of her shirts, a slip of paper drifted out and fluttered to the floor, so quietly Hikari would have missed it had it not brushed against her leg. Glancing down, she blinked and reached down to grab the paper, its glossy surface hiding its contents.

Bringing it up closer, her own smiling face greeted her, but she only had eyes for the form in her arms. Feline eyes stared up at her like she was the world, pure happiness lighting up expression. But only now did Hikari see the pain that lingered beneath the happiness in the digimon’s gaze. A dulled numbness encompassed Hikari, her body cold as her eyes remain locked on the pictures, remembering the moment, remembering the comforting warmth in her arms.

Her laundry forgotten, Hikari brought the photobooth pictures close to her chest, her body curling over it as tears begin to roll down her cheeks, splattering onto the ground beneath her.

Had she known then what she knew now…she would have dragged that moment out long enough to last forever.

–

**Part 8: Takeru**

Takeru stood in front of the door to his bedroom, his shoulders bunched and continuing to stiffen the longer that he stood there. His hand lifted and fell for what felt like the tenth time in the last twenty minutes, fighting against the raw pain and fear that held him back. An aching pressure built behind his eyes, matching the throbbing agony that lanced through his heart. Taking a slow breath, he finally lifted his arm to throw open the door, leaving it swinging on its hinges as he peered into the darkness. An emptiness waited within. No friendly greeting, no flap of wings. Nothing.

He didn’t know what he had expected.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Takeru turned on his heel and ran, forcing open the door and racing down the stairs of his apartment complex. His vision was blurred with tears when he opened them, trickling down pale cheeks. Flashes of orange and white flicker in the corner of his eye, vanishing the moment he jerks his head in that direction. A gasping sob escaped him, his feet skidding to a sudden stop in the shadows beneath the bridge. Glancing around with wide and wild eyes, he fell to his knees, hands scraping the pavement as they too collided with the ground. His body heaved with sobs, tears spattering to the ground below him.

Another flash of orange and black, this time accompanied with the rustling of wings.

His hands curled into fists, his eyes squeezing shut once more.

“Stop…please…I…I can’t…I just can’t…”

The bright bursts of color stopped, as did the gentle rustling of wings, leaving Takeru alone.

And that just made the pain worse.


End file.
